


Canary in a Cage

by Perversions



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dubious Consent, General Keith (Voltron), Knotting, M/M, Mild Blood, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor ABO Dynamics, Minor Injuries, Sexual Slavery, Top Lotor (Voltron), consensual drugged sex, shotor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-10-06 22:58:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17354213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perversions/pseuds/Perversions
Summary: The champion is no more. His last match has left him without an arm, and no ability to fight. As is tradition, he is to be auctioned off to the senior commanders as their attendant, and pleasure slave. Sendak has expressed interest and has the resources to purchase the champion, but a white-haired Galra, flanked by a lithe guard in a mask, may give him a run for his money.Or the pleasure slave Shiro AU that no one asked for.





	1. The Auction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a big super thanks to my editor anon who went through many sleepless nights and painful editing sessions just so that we can get this completely. he's really been on the ball with me and making sure i at least remain healthy.
> 
> and a quickly big super thanks to crumpet for making such a glorious artwork! check it out, here. ♥

Lotor watched as the slaves were loaded into their cages, steps uncertain as soldiers forced them into their displays. The cages, suspended in the air by long chains, rocked with the gentle sway of the ship. Though it had once been a grand battlecruiser, the technology onboard had become too dated to continue the service of expanding the empire. Now, it served another cause—selling former gladiators.

They were a sad bunch—the Galra didn’t retire functioning gladiators. Most had been maimed in some way. Though the arena overseers had fitted them with prosthetics, they were cheaply made and were useless for fighting. Whether they won or lost their last match within the arena, if they couldn’t fight, they were useless.

Typically, slaves who survived the arena were sent to work in various penal colonies for the remainder of their short menial lives. However, popular gladiators were special. If the overseers believed there was interest, the Empire would auction them off to senior commanders, a special privilege reserved for those who had dedicated themselves to service the Empire.

And word had quickly spread that the beloved champion would be auctioned off tonight.

“Is he truly here?”

“I watched some sentries pull him from his cell when I arrived. They had to dose him with inhibitors to get him to obey. Heard that even with him restrained, the puny little guard was too scared to get close enough and shove the needle into his arm, and they called for backup.”

Laughter filled Lotor’s ear and he tapped against the earpiece to lower the volume. “Have you not noticed how fit the Champion has become since he first entered the arena? I say his hindquarters have improved beautifully.”

Then he’ll be fun to toy around with. I’ve thought about this moment since I received the invitation. There will be many nights where he’ll be chained in my chambers.”

He muted the earpiece. “They’re positively delightful, aren’t they?” Lotor muttered to his masked companion. “With their single-minded personalities, it’s no wonder they have become Zarkon’s favorite warriors. It makes them terribly predictable, though.”

“And what are you doing here, half-breed?”

Lotor lifted his chin to stare up at Commander Sendak. He was one of Zarkon’s most trusted commanders—at least for the moment. While Lotor admired his persistence, the commander always struck him as a bit… simple. Sendak wouldn’t have become one of Zarkon’s top commanders if he was incompetent. But he lacked the subtle tactical brilliance that other commanders possessed.

Lotor sighed to himself—that was probably the reason his father liked Sendak. He was strong, victorious, and followed orders.

Sendak also shared his father’s disdain for him. It was probably another plus for Zarkon.

“What makes you think you are worthy of being here? What have you done to bring glory to the Empire recently, half-breed? Wouldn’t you be much better suited in the company of your _own_ half-breed generals?”

“I’m here to check on you, of course,” Lotor said with a grin. “Father sent me personally—he wanted to make sure you were enjoying your vacation to the fullest. Do let me know if I can be of assistance while I’m here. I’m sure my father would want me to help ensure his favorite commander enjoyed his time off duty. I do say that you deserve it.”

Sendak growled at him, and Lotor sighed. He hoped that the champion would make the evening worth it.

A chime sounded throughout the room. The auction would be starting soon.

Happy to be rid of Sendak’s company, Lotor stood up and began to walk to his room when Sendak moved to him. “If you don’t mind, commander, I believe that is our cue to start.”

When Sendak didn’t reply, Lotor’s masked companion stepped forward and shoved at Sendak’s shoulder. Lotor had to suppress a laugh at the action—his companion was half of Sendak’s size and the commander hadn’t budged at all. Sendak turned his leering gaze to Lotor’s general, sizing him up. He growled low in his throat.

The masked figure stared back and Lotor knew all too well that a glare was emitting from those piercing purple eyes.

The chime played again, a final warning for those who wanted to attend the auction.

“We aren’t finished here,” Sendak growled as he turned around.

Lotor refused to say anything as Sendak walked away from them. The other commanders had already disappeared into their own private rooms. Though Sendak had opted against starting a duel in the auction hall, Lotor didn’t feel any less tense as he entered his own room.

The material of his seat was plush and comfortable, at least, and he had a wonderful view—even with the animosity from the others, the auctioneers wouldn’t deny the prince a good seat. Lotor leaned back before looking to his companion. “Keith—you could have gotten us killed by Sendak.”

Keith removed his mask and pulled down his hood, black locks cascading down to his shoulders. “You brought me here to help you and that’s what I did, isn’t it?”

“I brought you here to make sure the champion gets on my ship safely and discreetly.”

Keith picked up the decanter that was before them and sniffed at the open lid. He dipped his finger into the spout and tilted the liquid inside until it coated his finger. Lotor made a face as Keith popped his wet digit into his mouth, tasting it for any poisons. “Protecting you is also one of my priorities.” Deeming it safe, he filled a glass with the violet liquid, swirling it around in his left hand. “Didn’t I do my job correctly?”

“Try to avoid antagonizing him any further,” Lotor commented. “The commanders already believe that I’m a black stain on the empire; I doubt we’d have any allies in this crowd. The last thing we need is a brawl before we bring home my property.”

“About that…” Keith placed the glass in Lotor’s outstretched hand. “Do you really believe you’ll be able to buy the champion today? Everyone here is a senior commander with the pay that goes with it—we won’t have enough for him.”

“Let me worry about that.”

The lights dimmed, and the center of the stage brightened with a single spotlight. Metal screeched as the floor opened. A gilded cage rose slowly rose from below, revealing the gladiator everyone was waiting for. Lotor briefly turned his attention to Keith and was surprised to see his mouth had dropped open.

Keith had seen the champion before when Lotor decided to attend the fights. He had seen him rip other slaves apart with his bare hands, had seen him covered in blood and gore, terrified and panting. It was hard to believe that the creature he was now looking at was the same man.

He was much cleaner than he had looked in months. He was dressed in a white corset that wrapped around his torso, accentuating his strong pectorals, while lacy white stockings hugged his legs, ending in the middle of his thighs. A train similar to what someone would see at a wedding flowed from behind him and down to the bottom of the cage, decorated completely in feathers.

He was undeniably attractive, the soft feathers perfectly contrasting with his muscular build and sharp features. This man would be the greatest prize for any Galra commander.

“They stripped him of all his glory,” Keith commented.

The champion’s eyes were normally intense, but they were now unfocused as his head lolled to the side. “Maybe not now while he’s doped up on inhibitors but wait until they wear off,” Lotor said. “I have no doubt you’ll see just how fearsome he can still be.”

“I’m skeptical.”

_“The bidding will start at fifty thousand GACKT.”_

Within a moment, the price had already doubled. The auctioneer barely had a chance to take a breath with how fast the bids were coming in. Above the windows, red lights flashed as the generals continued to raise the price. Owning the champion would be a valuable price in anyone’s collection, a symbol of status and wealth. And as Zarkon’s top generals, they were unaccustomed to losing.

Lotor knew who was in each box—he knew their resources, and how much they were willing to spend on the champion. Lotor may not have their brute strength, but he made up for it with intelligence and the intel on his enemies.

He refused to be unprepared.

Lotor swirled the liquid in his glass as he waited as Sendak drove the price up and pushed others out. While Sendak didn’t have the most resources of the commanders, he was the most respected and feared. And, while being outbid by the bastard son of the emperor would be an insult, losing to Sendak would simply be allowing the honorable commander his due. He watched as each commander slowly dropped out, seeing no reason to challenge Sendak beyond a saving-face bid.

_“Five million GACKT going once.”_

The lights were no longer flickering. In his room, Sendak must be pleased with himself—he must have fooled himself in believing that he had won the champion.

_“Going twice.”_

Lotor couldn’t let him have all the fun. He smiled and leaned forward, tapping his button and raising the price. It was a shame that they were given rooms to respect everyone’s privacy—Lotor would have done anything to see the look on Sendak’s face. Before the auctioneer had a chance to announce Lotor’s bid, the light above Sendak’s room flashed, raising the price once more.

“It seems that Sendak is ready to challenge us,” Lotor said with a smile. He tapped the button before him again.

Keith stiffened with every bid that was placed. “Lotor…” Keith muttered while Lotor bidding away several months of resources—resources they would struggle to make back. And for what? A former gladiator?

Lotor ignored Keith, watching the champion sway in his cage. Whenever the announcer spoke, the champion raised his head and searched for the voice. It seemed to Lotor that he was looking for help, for someone to save him from the situation that had befallen him.

_“Ten million GACKT. Do we have ten million GACKT?”_

Lotor’s bid had easily reached the highest amount offered for any slave sold by the empire. Keith continued to stand stiff behind him, his arms behind his back. Lotor could see his eyes locked upon the light about Sendak’s room, silently pleading for him not to drag it out even further. Whatever Sendak would offer next, Lotor would challenge it with one of his own. It wasn’t just about winning the champion—it was about outbidding Sendak in front of the others.

_“Ten million GACKT—going once, going twice… Sold for ten million GACKT.”_

“Isn’t that nice, Keith?” Lotor drained his glass. “It seems that we’ll have someone new on our ship to take care of.”

Keith growled. “I don’t understand. You spent _months_ of resources on him— _months._ What you spent could have been used for nearly anything else—ships, weapons, food for Kova. So, why?”

“Can you not see it?” Lotor questioned. When Keith didn’t answer him, Lotor chuckled. “The witch’s prized champion? Despite his limited knowledge of his enemies, he’s survived against every adversary the arena threw at him. I see potential in him, just as I saw it in you.” He stood up and tossed his hair over his shoulder. “Why don’t we go and pick him up? I’d like to bring him to the ship before someone else bothers us.”

“I still think this is a mistake. If you wanted another fighter, we could easily buy an entire company of well-tried trained mercenaries for that kind of money. But I trust you,” Keith muttered. He picked up his mask and placed it back on his face, following it with pulling his hood over his head.

Lotor gave him a pat on his shoulder as he exited his private room. The prince valued his loyalty—Keith and his other generals would follow him to the edge of the universe if he asked them. He would always be grateful for that, that he could always count on them to be by his side.

They could feel the glares from the other generals as they left their room, but Lotor held his chin up high and walked past them without a word. Keith had gripped his dagger as they made their way to Lotor’s prize, anxiously looking around them. Just as they were nearing the door, Lotor heard a snark from behind them. He turned to see that Sendak had left the crowd in the lobby and was quickly approaching them. His footsteps were heavy, and his growl echoed in Lotor’s ears. The quintessence of his arm fizzled and crackled, eager to be released.

Lotor remained where he stood, his hands behind his back as Keith moved to stand before him. His companion had pulled his blade an inch out of its sheath, ready to draw it fully and fight if he needed to. Lotor knew it would be like an Arusian fighting a fully grown Klanmural—Keith wouldn’t stand a chance against Sendak. However, it wouldn’t stop him from trying to protect Lotor.

As predicted, Sendak smacked Keith aside, sending him flying toward a wall before wrapping his clawed prosthetic around Lotor’s torso and pulled him in close. His breath reeked of alcohol; it reminded Lotor of the brew his father used to drink when he was just a child.

“You cost me my champion!” Sendak snarled.

Droplets of spit hit Lotor in the face. He slowly raised his hand and wiped them off. “Commander Sendak, this is most unbecoming of you. While this reaction would be wonderful for conquering a planet, I don’t think anyone would appreciate this behavior towards me.”

Sendak laughed. He lowered his face until he was an inch apart from Lotor’s. “You’re an exiled prince. Your disappearance would be cleansing the empire of such filth.”

This was a threat that Lotor had grown accustomed to.

“Is this truly a wise choice, Commander Sendak?” Lotor questioned. “Even in my exile, my father still would not look kindly on someone murdering his only son. And, besides, you know there are several social events where one is expected to be accompanied by a slave or two. Perhaps I’ll attend one of those parties soon—and maybe you’ll be there, as well. Perhaps I’ll place the champion in a more revealing outfit? If I’m feeling generous, I could even allow you some time with him. Kill me now, and I assure you my generals will have him loaded on my ship before you could even make it to the docking bay.

“You will never have a chance to see the champion again—let us live, and you might.”

Sendak growled but after a moment he released his grip on Lotor, roughly dropping him on his feet. He knew that Lotor was right. After all, those “parties” were a chance for generals and commanders to show off their possessions. And since Lotor had won the champion, there was no doubt that he’d be invited to every single one—a desire to see the champion up close would easily win over dealing with the half-breed.

“Enjoy him while it lasts,” Sendak threatened. “The champion won’t be yours for long.”

“We shall see.”

Sendak stalked away just as Keith returned, his knife drawn to fight back. Lotor waved for Keith to follow him. Thankfully, Keith had stayed out of the confrontation, even if it wasn’t his choice. He would need to talk to Keith later about acting before thinking—it was still a process they were working on.

A sentry waited for them at a set of doors. With a flourish, it led the way through the doors and into a hall with prisoners packed in cages to their left. Almost all of them were missing limbs, prosthetics replaced arms and legs while others had lost their vision—robotic yellow eyes pierced through the darkness.

The champion’s cage was in the last in the hall.

He still wore the feathered outfit and looked more fragile than he had in the gilded cage. His forehead was pressed against the wall. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his skin and Lotor wondered if the inhibitors had a side effect on his species. It would be something he’d need Acxa to check when they returned.

A soldier appeared with another sentry, carrying a pair of shackles. She quickly typed a code into a panel beside the champions cell. The cage doors shift and opened slowly, opening outwards towards them. The champion turned his attention to the group before him, but it didn’t seem like he noticed them. He pressed his forehead back against the cell.

“Will you need help escorting him to the ship, Prince Lotor?” the soldier asked.

The simple question surprised him—it had been so long since he had last been properly addressed by someone besides his generals. “There’s no need for help,” he said quickly. “My general and I can handle it.” He nodded to Keith, who stepped forward and tucked his hands beneath the champion’s arms.

At first, he weakly flailed in Keith’s grip. His hands tried to push at Keith, but the inhibitors had sapped him of his strength. Keith was easily able to drape a muscular arm over his shoulders. It was humorous to see him holding up such massive weight against his smaller frame.

“If the inhibitors wear off, you should shoot him up again,” the soldier explained. She held out a capped injector to him. “Since he’s arrived, he’s been incredibly aggressive. We administered more before we dressed and auctioned him, so you should have enough time before the next dose needs to be administered. Be advised, though, he’s surprised us before.”

“I do not think that will be necessary. He should be well situated with us before there’s a need,” Lotor assured. With how much weight he was putting on Keith, it was clear that the champion could barely hold himself up, much less attack anyone. “We’ll be leaving now.”

“Yeah, _right_ now,” Keith growled.

The champion had switched from struggling to rubbing his face against Keith’s mask. It seemed that the champion was becoming highly affectionate with each his general. Lotor wondered if it was another side effect. It only grew worse once they were on-board their own ship—as soon as Keith had removed his mask and placed the champion in a seat next to him, the gladiator leaned over to nuzzle his neck.

Lotor relaxed in his chair as their ship pulled clear of the Galra battleship, picking up speed. They would be safe. Lotor looked to find the champion in Keith’s lap.

“I think you have a secret admirer, Keith,” Lotor commented with a laugh.

“Your face is so smooth…” the champion muttered. “And tis not purple…”

“I hope you get split ends for all eternity, Lotor,” Keith growled.

Lotor laughed. “Have you learned our champions name?”

Keith shoved at the champion, only for him to fall back into his lap. “I have. His name’s Shiro.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya'll are in for a wild ride. i've had the idea of shiro being decked out in feathers and in a cage for two years and i finally found a reason to put it to use. there's going to be a lot more interesting things and i hope you all will enjoy it. ♥
> 
>  
> 
> **[EDIT: the piece has been posted. ♥](http://smutty-crumpet.tumblr.com/post/182633765484/canary-in-a-cage-shotor-perversions-summary)**
> 
>  
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/perversionsao3/) | [tumblr](http://perversionsao3.tumblr.com/) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/perversions)
> 
> [editor's tumblr - ](http://anonusr.tumblr.com/)[twitter](https://twitter.com/NormalArcher3) | artist's [tumblr](http://the-british-crumpet.tumblr.com/) \- [twitter](http://twitter.com/BritishCrumpet4/) \- [instagram](http://instagram.com/thebritishcrumpet/)


	2. First Contact

Shiro turned onto his side and coughed. His body still felt weak and sluggish—his legs and arms didn’t feel like they were part of him, they were slow to react to his demands. The feeling in his head didn’t make things any better. He could feel the room spinning.

It took some time before the feeling finally passed. Shiro tried to open his eyes. Immediately, he knew that he wasn’t in his cell. The room was far too. The bed he was on was incredibly soft. Shiro moaned and pressed his face into the silk sheets. It had been such a long time since he had a bed like this, or any bed really. He hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

Turning onto his back, he saw an intricate looking ceiling, decorated with a tasteful constellation motif. Though he couldn’t recognize any of the stars, Shiro quickly determined he preferred the room to the cramped space of his cell.

With what little strength he had in his arms, Shiro lifted himself into a seating position. His eyes roamed over the outfit he wore, lacey and clinging to his body like a second skin while a feather trained spread out beneath him. The corset seemed strange on him; it didn’t constrict his breathing like he expected it to. Shiro noticed that he was much cleaner than he had been in a long time. The soldiers never bothered to keep the slaves clean.

Shiro looked down and saw the metal of his prosthetic arm… and then everything hit him like a speeding bullet.

Shiro remembered losing his arm in battle and waking up with a prosthetic. It was hard for him to do much with it—even lifting a cup was difficult. The artificial hand shook constantly, even with minimal exertion. It was something he couldn’t control, and it was attached to him. It bothered him.

From there, Shiro could recall being dragged out of his cell and stuck in the neck with some type of needle. He remembered struggling to remain on his feet. Sentries had to drag him down halls—he was barely aware of what was happening or where they were taking him. The memories were all fuzzy, though he could remember snapshots: a cage, numbers being rattled off, someone saying “sold” loudly…

Had he been sold? The thought twisted his stomach into something terrible. While his time in the arena had been truly terrible, he shuddered to think of whatever his “owner” had in store for him. What was the saying, “the devil you know…”

“My, my, my. You look even more delicious when you’re more coherent.”

Shiro jumped and found himself fumbling backward on the bed. At the door stood a silver-haired general. He wore a devilish grin, and his yellow eyes roamed up and down Shiro’s body, appraising him. Shiro tried to move the sheets to cover himself—he felt naked under the man’s gaze.

“Tsk, tsk, we’ll have none of that.” The general stepped further into the room, swaying his hips as he wandered closer to the bed. “I quite enjoy seeing your body on display like this. You look much better without the filth of the arena.”

Shiro could feel his face turning red, heat spreading from his neck to his face.

He didn’t know who this Galra was, and Shiro was pretty sure that he had seen everyone in Zarkon’s army. Zarkon’s preferred generals were allowed to speak with the gladiators before the matches, and though he never spoke to any of them, he was sure most tried to speak to him. If this man purchased him, wanted him, why had he not seen him in the cells before? He didn’t seem like the rest of the Galra commanders. Unlike other Galra, there wasn’t a trace of fur on his face, and his ears were tapered.

He was different.

“Are you thirsty? Would you like something to drink?” A gloved hand reached out to cup Shiro’s chin. His thumb brushed against a dry lip. “I suspect it’s been a while since you’ve had quality food; I doubt you were taken cared of within the arena cells.”

That was true. He couldn’t call what they had given him food. It did the job in a pinch—but he wouldn’t give his trust to this man before him.

Shiro still nodded his head slowly, still unsure.

Though Shiro thought the man was attempting to give him a charming smile, it still made Shiro uneasy. Shiro watched him wander over to a section on the wall and press a few buttons. It opened to reveal bottles and bottles of liquid.

Shiro felt the dryness of his mouth intensify as he looked at the bottles. It took every ounce of self-control for Shiro to not leap up and snatch the bottles from his hand.

“Here you are,” the man said with a smile before passing Shiro the bottles. The general tried, and failed, to hold back a laugh as Shiro snatched one of the bottles and drained it within seconds. He sat down beside him. “Careful now. That one is pretty potent, and rather expensive. If you were simply thirsty, perhaps something less potent would have been a better idea,” he said, tapping one of the bottles. “Regards, until we figure out how humans like you respond, it’s better to take careful sips. I wouldn’t want my new prize broken on the first day.”

_Prize._

That’s right.

Shiro was _bought_ by this man—the Galra—to be a servant, a slave to him. Remembering that fact had the glass shaking in Shiro’s hand. He had been so focused on finally sating his thirst that he nearly forgot about the situation he was in.

A hand gripped Shiro’s thigh and he jumped from the touch, dropping the thankfully empty bottle, which rolled on the floor before stopping. The Gala hadn’t been rough, and Shiro may have found it soothing in another setting. Right now, he wanted to get far away.

“Is everything alright?”

Shiro let out a broken laugh. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Let’s see—in the last few months, I’ve been kidnapped by aliens, forced to fight to the death, lost my arm, bought by someone who, judging by how you eyed me earlier, is going to… to…” Shiro trailed off, taking a break before continuing. “And you think that I could be ‘alright’?”

The man stood from the bed and grabbed a small chair from the corner of the room, placing it near the bed so that he could sit down and stare at Shiro. He had been wrong about his eyes before. All the Galra he had seen had yellow eyes, void of any pupil or irises. His were purple.

“You seem to be confused, Champion. I’m not here to force you into submission. Though I certainly cannot fault you for that assumption, if another one of the Galra had purchased you, then that may have been your fate. However, I’m not like other Galra. And, unlike my father’s other commanders, I wouldn’t have spent a small fortune on a simple pleasure slave. Though we will need to—my apologies, it’s hard to describe—couple with one another, but once I’ve marked you as mine, we never will need to touch again.” He placed his fist over his chest, a gesture Shiro had come to recognize as a Galra salute. “On my honor, I will make all of this as pleasant for you as possible. I want to be your ally, not your enemy.”

“I don’t… I don’t even know your name…”

The Galra chuckled. “That is your primary concern? I would have assumed you would have more pressing ones. Do humans normally require a name before bedding someone?”

Shiro’s face grew hot once more. “It’s… it’s polite to do so.”

“Lotor.” He smiled when Shiro stared at him. “My parents named me Lotor.”

“Thank you, Shiro replied. “Now at least I know the name of the Galra that will be pressing me into the bed. I confess, it does make things slightly better.”

Lotor laughed before responding. “Your name is Shiro, isn’t it?”

Shiro was shocked. The Galra had just called him prisoner or champion. He repeatedly said his name to himself back when he was in his cell. He had to make sure that they couldn’t take it away—that he would always be “Shiro” and not “champion.”

His name sounded nice coming from Lotor’s mouth.

“That’s… that’s right. How did you know—”

“We Galra may not refer to our prisoners by their former names, but we keep a record of them,” Lotor explained, grabbing one of the unused bottles and taking a sip.

Shiro jumped as Lotor cupped his chin in his hand. His breath caught in his throat as their eyes met. Lotor’s gaze was tender, almost loving.

But still…

He turned away from Lotor’s hand. Shiro chewed on his lip and toyed with the train beneath him. _Why am I considering this?_ Shiro berated himself. _He’s an alien, a Galra, and I’m expected to just smile and… Just because he’s nicer than the others? And why do we need to even ‘couple’ anyway?_ “I-I’m sorry…” Shiro muttered, afraid of Lotor’s reaction.

“Don’t be. You don’t have to do anything that you aren’t ready for.”

Shiro took a few deep breaths, and he felt himself relax. Though it didn’t make sense, sitting next to Lotor, he felt safer than he had in months of Galra custody. The general’s presence seemed calming. Or maybe it was the effect of the liquid he had just chugged down.

“I haven’t seen you use this arm since you came into the room.”

Shiro started as Lotor gently lifted his new right arm in his hands. He hardly felt the weight of it be lifted at all. “They tried to replace my old am with it after a fight…”

“Ah, I remember that fight. You still won, though,” Lotor commented.

“At what cost?” Shiro questioned quietly.

Lotor hummed but said nothing else. Shiro looked at him, watching as he stared and examined his arm. It was strange to see someone so interested in it.

“You deserve something better than this simple piece of technology,” Lotor commented. He ran his hand over the surface, his fingers dipping into crevices. “The Galra technologists tend to give prisoners cheaply made prosthetics instead of high-quality ones. It’s a shame that they didn’t think you were worth the resources for something better.”

Shiro chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe it was for the best. In some small way, I’m _free_ from them. Because of this arm, because of how weak it makes me, I won’t need to fight for entertainment ever again.”

Lotor let out a tiny laugh. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. However, you seem to be favoring your other arm. Even though it’s simple, you should be able to use it.”

“Have you tried to use something like this?” Shiro asked.

“I confess I have not.”

“Well, yes, I can use it. But…” He held out his hand, and Lotor watched as the fingers mostly closed. “It’s taking nearly all my focus right now just to make a fist.” The fingers on his right hand twitched and quaked as they closed in on one another. Shiro let out a bitter chuckle. “And I’m not even succeeding. Of course I’m favoriting the other arm.

Lotor hummed again and turned Shiro’s hand around. He was still examining it intently, the cogs ticking in his head. When he spoke, he sounded confident,

“Can I try to make this easier to use for you, Shiro?”

“W-what?”

“If you’ll allow me, I would like to connect the arm to the ship’s computer. The arm appears to be working incorrectly—even a cheap prosthetic shouldn’t be that difficult. While I confess I lack the skills of some of my staff, even I can run a simple diagnostic. I might be able to see why it’s not working,” Lotor explained. “That is if you give me permission, of course.”

Shiro wasn’t sure if he wanted it to work or not. The prosthetic was designed for him to be somewhat functional and use it to serve his new owner. It was designed to allow him to do simple tasks and nothing more. But… if his arm was functional, maybe they’d think he could fight again. Perhaps someone would buy him back from Lotor and put him back in the arena.

Shiro didn’t want to return to the arena.

But Shiro wanted a working arm, too.

He chewed on his lip. “Will it hurt?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve never had a prosthetic, so I can’t say for certain.” Lotor cupped Shiro’s face, stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. “But, I promise you, so long as you’re with me, I’ll do my best to ensure no harm will come to you.”

He slowly nodded his consent and Lotor smiled at him. Shiro waited on the bed, watching carefully as Lotor wandered to one side of the room. His fingers pressed against a panel until a small portion of the wall slid out like a drawer. Lotor took out a small handheld device that he could only compare to a smartphone back on Earth.

He tried not to flinch as Lotor returned and sat beside him. A long cord was pulled out of the device and Lotor held it out to Shiro.

“It won’t hurt you, Shiro,” Lotor assured. “I’m not hacking into you—I’m just connecting to your arm and nothing else. If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, then let me know and I’ll stop right away.”

And, though he wasn’t sure why, Shiro believed him.

He closed his eyes and turned his head away.

Lotor waited for a beat or two before Shiro heard the telltale sign of machinery slotting into machinery. A whirring sound filled his ears and he almost opened his eyes. Almost. He squeezed his left hand into a tight fist, willing himself to be calm.

“This is such shoddy work,” Lotor scoffed. “I’m not sure who attached this to you, but it seems that have missed a few critical points, like telling it your species isn’t Galra. I’m not a skilled technician, and I could do better than this. It’s a wonder whoever did this is still employed.”

Shiro tried not to get his hopes up. “Can you fix it?”

“The system doesn’t have a pre-built model for your species. Something customer would work better, but I can try something that might work. Try clenching your fist again.”

And Shiro did.

He could feel the sensation as he did so, surprisingly himself—even more so, he realized that there wasn’t a struggle to do it.

Shiro looked down at his hand as he wiggled the metal fingers and clenched his hand. It seemed like a miracle that it worked for him. Slowly, he raised his arm and stared at it even more. Though it still felt a little unnatural, he no longer had to strain to move.

“Hm. That’s an interesting addition.”

Shiro looked to Lotor. “What is?”

“Well, it seems that they’ve added something more commonly found in pleasure slave collars—the arm has a way of sending signals to your brain to make you more compliant. It’s normally used by owners if their slaves try to fight back,” Lotor explained. “I’m surprised they didn’t mention it when you were being auctioned. It seems like the kind of feature many of the commanders would have appreciated.”

The thought of one of the other generals winning him, holding that kind of power over him, terrified Shiro.

“Might I make a suggestion, Shiro?” Lotor asked, interrupting Shiro from his thoughts.

Sighing through his nose, Shiro nodded his head. At this point, what else did he have to lose? “Go ahead.”

Lotor shifted closer to him. “Now that you are technically… ‘owned’ by me, as I mentioned there are certain requirements that are to be expected of us. As my newly registered slave, I am expected to, for a lack of a better word, consummate our new relationship. However, I can see the idea of bedding your newfound owner isn’t your ideal.”

Shiro paled at the thought.

“What do you suggest then?” Shiro asked. He couldn’t keep his voice from quivering.

“You clearly aren’t looking forward to this, and, while we are doing this for custom and not for pleasure, I don’t want an unwilling partner. So, I propose a way to make this better for both of us. Allow me to use this on you, Shiro.” Lotor leaned back and raised his hands defensively when Shiro looked at him harshly. “I don’t mean to take advantage of you. If we were to use it, I can instruct the arm to only use a low setting—something that would ease your mind and make you less nervous. I suspect it would be similar to the inhibitors they injected you with earlier.

“If it works as I expect, you would still be aware of what’s happening around you. It would simply make you more relaxed and uninhibited. I could use it now, if you’d like. We can see how you’ll react and feel about it.”

Shiro knew that Lotor could bed him by force if he wished, as could any of the generals. Lotor appeared to be giving him a way to make it pleasant. Though Lotor could be lying, about it being necessary, what reasons would he have? In Shiro’s weakened state, and with the computer attached to the arm, Lotor could turn on the program and Shiro would be powerless to stop him.

But Lotor was giving him a choice, something no other Galra had done.

“Is… is sex really required?” Shiro stammered.

Lotor gave him a sad look. “Unfortunately, it is. You see, we Galra let out a different set of pheromones during sex. Perhaps you can’t smell them, but the other commanders and generals can. When you’re on my ship, or on my compound, it will not be a problem. However, if you’re at an event with me, and there are other generals, they’ll notice you are ‘available’ and try to mark you as their own. If they do, there are ways they can try to gain ownership of you, and I don’t think either of us wants to risk that. While I know you don’t have any reason to think I’m different, I can assure you they won’t be kind.”

Lotor was trying to help him, giving him a chance to fulfill his Galra slave obligations, without completely abusing his power. Shiro supposed he should be grateful for that.

“Just a little bit, right? To see how it’ll affect me?” Shiro questioned quietly.

“I’ll place it on the lowest setting, nothing more—just to see what you think.”

That didn’t seem too painful. “Okay… Okay, let’s do it…”

Lotor touched Shiro’s face and forced him to look into his eyes. “If it becomes too much for you, let me know. Say the word and I will turn it off. Do you understand?”

Shiro was grateful. In the short time they had known each other, Lotor was already proving to be different than the other Galra generals. Shiro nodded his head slowly and clenched both his hands into fists.

“Are you ready?”

Shiro nodded again.

Lotor pressed a button on the device. At first, nothing happened. The inhibitors were always quick—sometimes painfully so. It took several seconds for Shiro to notice anything was changing.

It started with a tingling sensation in the back of his head at first. It then grew, becoming a warmth that spread throughout his body and pooled in his stomach. Shiro squeezed his thighs together and his breathing hitched. He could feel himself begin to sweat into the thing fabric covering him.

Lotor was watching him with a keen eye, hand hovering over the off switch, waiting for Shiro to give the word. He didn’t touch Shiro—he just waited.

But, even without doing anything, the way he was looking at Shiro made him feel so hot. Shiro felt his gaze drift to the crotch of Lotor’s suit. He was aware the device was altering his thoughts, filling him with this heat. It didn’t matter. After so long of being in a constant state of panic and fear, the arm was making him feel better than he had in months. He hadn’t gotten off since the Kerberos mission—and even with the device turned low his concerns were slowly falling away and being replaced with a powerful need. A desire to submit. To be taken by the gentle Galra in front of him.

“How are you feeling, Shiro?” Lotor asked softly.

Shiro couldn’t bring himself to answer him. It felt like he had lost the use of his own voice. Every sound he made was raspy and pathetic. He struggled to form a single word, groaning was much easier.

“Do you need us to stop?”

“No!” Shiro forced out, startling Lotor. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead into Lotor’s shoulder. The coolness of his armor was a relief to Shiro, but it wasn’t enough. “Please, we can keep going. I’m okay…”

Lotor made Shiro look at him. Just from seeing Shiro like this, panting and needy, his pupils were blown out. He wanted Shiro just as much as he wanted him. “Are you sure?”

Shiro licked his lips. “I say the word and you’ll stop…?” Lotor nodded and Shiro did so in return. “Then please, Lotor… I haven’t felt good in so long… _Fuck_ me, please.”

It seemed that it was the only trigger he needed.

Lotor pressed Shiro into the bed with a bruising kiss. His hand ran up and down Shiro’s side, claws catching on the silky lace that decorated his body. The thin silk seemed too hot now. He wanted it off.

He reached to undo the corset, but Lotor’s hands stopped him. Shiro let out a pathetic whine.

“I want to take you while you’re wearing this,” Lotor whispered against his lip. “You look beautiful in it—like you were born to wear it.”

Shiro blushed at the praise and spread his legs wider. Lotor easily slotted himself between them, grinding against Shiro, before dipping down to capture his lips. Through the thin fabric of his own underwear and Lotor’s spacesuit, Shiro could feel his hard cock against him. It amazed himself that he could become aroused so quickly—even more so, to feel Lotor’s hardness against his own. Shiro felt valued. Wanted.

Lotor grinding against him made Shiro even more heated. He wanted to beg. He wanted to feel the man’s flesh against his own.

He cupped Lotor’s face and pushed him away until their kiss broke. “Lotor, please… I-I need...”

Lotor chuckled. He lowered his head, pressing his nose against Shiro’s collarbone. “Is my little whore that needy for me?”

Shiro gasped and hid his face against Lotor’ chest. Lotor immediately paused.

“I’m sorry. Was that too much?” Lotor asked, lifting his head as he stilled. His precious playful tone was gone.

“Don’t stop.” Shiro grasped Lotor’s shoulders and dragged him in for another kiss as he ground his hips against the Galra.

Lotor was smiling again. “As you wish.”

A pleasant sigh left Shiro as Lotor reared back on his knees. He watched as Lotor stripped himself of his armor. Though it looked intricate, it took Lotor only moments to remove the armored pieces and lower his space suit down to the floor.

Shiro’s eyes roamed the naked body before him, lingering on the ridged and tapered cock, a clear bead of precum on the tip, a knot at the base. He wanted it inside him—in his mouth, in his ass, he didn’t care. Shiro just _wanted._

Lotor lay on top of him once more and cupped the bulge of Shiro’s cock, pressing against the flimsy material covering it. “You’re soaking wet down here. It seems that the program is doing its job very well.”

Shiro sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. He rolled his hips against Lotor’s hand. He could feel himself getting closer with each artificial stroke. Lotor never applied any other pressure and he didn’t move his hand. He simply continued to watch Shiro rut against him, committing every movement and sound to memory.

“Stop teasing me …” Shiro whimpered.

“Or what, my little champion?” Lotor leaned in closer until their faces were inches apart. “What will you do if I don’t stop?”

 _Fuck,_ Shiro hardly had a coherent thought in his mind. Lotor applied more pressure to his cock and Shiro cried out.

“ _Please_ just do _something,_ Lotor. I’ll do anything.”

Lotor chuckled. “I love how needy you get like this. So many got to see you in the arena, but only I will get to see you like this.”

He pulled his hand away and hooked his fingers into the straps of Shiro’s underwear. Lotor brought them down slowly, bringing them down past muscled and scarred thighs. He paused when the fabric was around Shiro’s ankles, before lifting himself up and giving his partner’s cock a quick lick before he wrapped his lips around the head. He suckled it for a while, enjoying every desperate sound he heard Shiro give out.

“Close,” Shiro gasped out, and Lotor immediately relented, lifting his head.

He gave Shiro a smile. “Not yet, my champion.” And he returned to his earlier task of removing the silk panties.

Even though he was still wearing the corset and feathered train, Shiro felt more exposed than ever. Perhaps it was the program working his way through his system, changing his brain chemistry to desire Lotor, but it still didn’t change that, regardless of why, no one had ever turned him on this much before.

Despite all the scars that now littered his body, Lotor was looking at him as though he was still attractive. As though the druids hadn’t ruined him after all. Lotor wanted him, and his stare fanned the heat surging through him.

Shiro keened as Lotor pulled away, carefully moving the connection to the arm aside, so it was still within reach if Shiro needed him to stop. If his cock wasn’t desperate for the friction that Lotor’s body could provide, Shiro would have been touched by how much Lotor seemed to care.

“Are you still with me, Shiro?” Lotor asked. There was a vial in his hand filled with clear liquid; Shiro didn’t realize he had grabbed it. “Do you need us to stop?”

Shiro shook his head. “No, please keep going. I’m okay. I-I can handle this…”

“Good.” Lotor gripped Shiro’s thighs and opened them wider. “Spread your legs for me, my champion. I want you nice and open for me.”

He whimpered and tossed his head back. Shiro sucked in a breath as Lotor pressed slick fingers to his hole, massaging the muscle until it yielded to his touch. The moment a finger pressed inside, he rolled his hips, meeting Lotor’s hand with every inward thrust. It only took a simple plea for Shiro to get another finger and then another inside him. Three fingers deep and Lotor was stretching Shiro out _beautifully._

Shiro loved it.

“Do you think you’re ready to take me?” Lotor asked, pressing kisses against Shiro’s collarbone. “I want you so badly.”

Shiro shuddered beneath him. His legs were shaking with need. He brought his knees up to frame Lotor’s torso and gave him a squeeze. Shiro still felt warm, the feeling coursing through his body in slow pulses from his arm. He wasn’t bothered in the least. After everything that had happened, to feel this good…

 _“Yes,”_ Shiro replied. “I’m ready.

Lotor removed his fingers quicker than Shiro had expected. He reared back and tossed silver hair over his shoulder. Shiro moved to his elbows to watch as Lotor slicked himself up. The cock was much bigger than anything he had taken back on Earth, but the gentle pulses washed away any potential fear, leaving just anticipation. And need.

The feel of Lotor’s cock against his loosened hole sent a chill down his spine.

Lotor cooed softly to him as he pressed forward. Shiro tossed his head back, whimpering with every inch that slipped in. It felt so much bigger than what he was prepared for, the ridges catching on his entrance. He reached up and gripped his shoulders, giving himself something to hold, to push back if he wasn’t ready. It turned out that it wasn’t needed—as soon as Shiro touched him, Lotor stopped and waited.

Shiro was at a loss for words—for anything, really. The only thing he understood was the need to be filled and stretched by Lotor’s cock. It was a chant in his mind. He wrapped his legs around Lotor’s hips, drawing him in deeper.

The action had Lotor bowing his head and moaning softly, a muttered “you’re so tight” beneath his breath.

He could feel the pulsing of Lotor’s cock, feel the barely formed knot threatening to stretch him wider. Shiro desired it, was ready to take it into his body. “You can move now…”

Lotor didn’t waste any time. He hovered over Shiro, hands planted on the mattress on either side of his head. His hips rolled back and pushed back in. Shiro sighed at Lotor’s languid thrusts, how shallow they were so he wasn’t without him for even a moment. But it wasn’t what he wanted—it wasn’t what Shiro desired to quell the heat that burned hotly, becoming a hot coil in the pit of his stomach.

Shiro ran his nails down Lotor’s sides, relishing in how he gasped from the sensation. “More… _Please,_ give it to me _more…”_

There was no hesitation. He obeyed Shiro rearing back and fucking into him. He had Shiro’s legs in the crook of his arms and pulled him down to meet his thrusts.

 _This_ was what Shiro had been waiting for. To feel Lotor’s cock almost leaving his body completely before slamming back in. The coil inside him grew more heated and it burned Shiro. He loved the feeling.

“That’s right, champion,” Lotor muttered. He forced one of Shiro’s legs to his chest, bending him in half and opening him further. “I want to hear you scream for me.”

Shiro hadn’t realized he was muffling himself with his hand. He moved to grip the sheets beneath him. The next thrust ripped the desired scream from him. As did the next. His voice was becoming hoarse and his words were breaking apart. His hands shifted to Lotor, his nails dug painfully so into Lotor’s side while Lotor’s own claws grazed Shiro’s thighs. Beneath him, he could hear fabric ripping, the train coming apart from the movement above it.

But, _fuck,_ Shiro didn’t care.

Lotor’s knot was inflating more, pressing insistently against his rim. Shiro wanted it inside him. He wanted Lotor to fill him up as if he was breeding a bitch in heat. If that was what Lotor wanted from him, he’d do it.

“Give it to me…” Shiro pleaded. He tightened his grip on Lotor’s shoulders. “Knot me…”

Lotor stalled, his knot just outside of Shiro’s hole. “Are you sure you can take it?”

Shiro nodded his head. He couldn’t fully trust his words—the heat was already making him babble

“If you think you can.”

Lotor didn’t give it to him right away. He sat back on his haunches, dropped Shiro’s legs down to his thighs again. At least half of Lotor’s cock was still inside him. Lotor picked up the slick substance and poured some on his fingers. He pushed one into Shiro’s hole beside his cock.

“You really are quite skilled, my champion. Look at how needy your body is for my knot,” Lotor muttered as Shiro rolled his hips to try and take more in. He dared to push a second finger in, stretching his new toy even more. “You want it so much that you’re sucking in my fingers along with my cock.”

Shiro whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. A clawed hand grabbed his chin and gave him a little shake. He opened his eyes just as Lotor pushed a third finger into him, a sobbing whine leaving his lips.

“I want you to look at me as I knot you,” Lotor ordered, curling his fingers within Shiro. “Do you understand, Shiro?”

He nodded his head, gasping again as a fourth finger slipped in. Shiro wasn’t sure how much more he could handle being stretched open. He didn’t care.

Lotor pinned a leg to Shiro’s chest. He resumed his previous brutal pace, pounding into Shiro hard. The knot grazed his hole with every thrust.

Shiro was slowly becoming a drooling mess. He whispered for Lotor to knot him, to lock them together and fill him up. Lotor kissed along his face, pressing their chests together. His abdomen rubbed against Shiro’s cock, smearing precum over his flesh and the white corset. Each rub against his cock, each thrust inside him had Shiro’s eyes rolling to the back of his head.

It felt so good and Shiro, with what little though he had left, mused that perhaps being Lotor’s slave wouldn’t be so bad. He felt good, and Lotor was taking such good care of him, treating him with respect. He didn’t have to do it—Shiro was technically his sex slave. But the way Lotor was looking at him, like he was worth so much more than just a piece of flesh, turned Shiro on just as much as the warmth spreading through him.

Shiro reached for his own cock sandwiched between their bodies and stroked it. He was gentle with himself even as Lotor fucked him roughly. The pleasure was like a tsunami, dunking his head under the waves. It swallowed him whole, bringing him down deeper and deeper until he hit his peak.

He arched his back as he came, spurting over his hand and chest. Lotor showered him with praise, telling Shiro how good he looked with cum all over himself. Shiro shuddered from the praise and wrapped his free leg around Lotor’s waist. He begged for him to knot him quickly, to claim him before anyone else could.

Lotor growled above him before slamming in, his knot sealing them together. Shiro’s vision went white. The heat that Lotor filled him up with was hotter than whatever the arm could provide. His body spasmed with every ounce that was poured into him, his legs twitching against Lotor’s body. It all felt so good.

But the heat soon passed—the heat from Lotor’s cum and his arm faded until it was a dull throb. Soon, it was completely gone.

Shiro laid there with Lotor hovering above him, panting hard as he struggled to catch his breath. Lotor still stared at him with such intensity and care. His hand stroked Shiro’s cheek and he said something, but Shiro couldn’t catch it.

He was so tired, exhaustion enveloping him like a warm blanket. Between fighting for the Galra and then meeting Lotor, then fucking Lotor, Shiro was tired. He closed his eyes, a content smile on his lips as he drifted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter gets an extra special shoutout because my editor had to hear me whine about how long it felt to me. I DON'T DESERVE THEM, OKAY!
> 
> **[Story Artwork](http://smutty-crumpet.tumblr.com/post/182633765484/canary-in-a-cage-shotor-perversions-summary)**
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/perversionsao3/) \- [twitter](https://twitter.com/NormalArcher3) | [tumblr](http://perversionsao3.tumblr.com/) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/perversions)
> 
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	3. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro wakes up after a rousing night with Lotor. Waking up, though, he finally meets someone he embarrassed himself in front of.

Shiro wasn’t sure how long he had slept.

The room was dimly lit by purple strip lights in the ceiling. Shiro covered his eyes with his arm. The plastic-like material of the prosthetic was cool against his forehead, and for that one moment, he was grateful for the artificial arm.

Twisting in the bed, Shiro could feel how sore his muscles had become from the night before. His legs had suffered the most, and he rubbed them to try and soothe the ache. The bedroom doors swished open and Shiro jumped from the sound. He sat up in the bed, forcing the sheets to fall to his waist. It was only then that he noticed his “clothes” had been removed. From the corner of his eye, he could see them draped over a chair. Sometime after their night together, Lotor must have helped him out of them. He hastily pulled the sheet back up to cover himself.

“It’s good to see you awake.”

The Galra who stood at the door was different from those he had seen around the arena. She had soft blue skin instead of fur, with dark blue hair. As Shiro slowly regained higher brain function, he realized her armor, like Lotor’s, was different than the standard Galra officer armor.

He thought he had seen it on another Galra too, at the auction, but Shiro was quick to dismiss the thought, chalking it up to a hallucination from the inhibitors.

“Who are…?” Shiro’s voice sounded raspy and broken. After chanting Lotor’s name for most of the evening, he wasn’t surprised.

“Acxa. I’m Lotor’s second in command and I’ve been tasked with checking on you, and confirming you’ve recovered from last night.” Despite the awkwardness of the situation, he was impressed she still managed a clinical, respectful tone.

He drummed his fingers on the bed, his left hand making a soft sound against the sheets. “Where is Lotor…?”

“He’s busy with diplomatic obligations, but he should return tonight. Until then, I’ve been asked to give you a tour of the compound, and help you settle in.”

Since his capture, Shiro had only been confined to prisoner cells around the arena.  “I don’t understand…” Shiro muttered.

“Prince Lotor wanted to assure you that while you may be under his ownership, you are not to be treated as such, “Acxa explained. “You can wander through the compound as you see fit or you may remain in your room. In the end, Prince Lotor wants you to make your own choices while you’re here with him.”

Lotor had already proved himself to be better than his previous captors and was continuing to impress Shiro. He would need to thank him when they saw each other again.

“Are there any clothes for me to wear?” Shiro questioned. “I’d prefer not to wear…” he trailed off as he gestured to the feathered attire draped over the chair.

Acxa walked further into the room, the heels of her boots clicking on the metal floor. She pressed her finger to a panel on the wall, and a panel nearby opened, revealing what appeared to be a small closet. From what Shiro could see, most of the clothes were dark blues and purples, mirroring Acxa or Lotor’s colors. Overall, Shiro couldn’t complain about how they looked—anything was better than the threadbare scraps they gave him to wear in the arena.

“Prince Lotor had gone ahead and filled your wardrobe while you were resting. He also wanted you to know that, if there are any problems with fit or comfort, to let us know—you’re our first human guest, but we can procure more appropriate attire if needed,” Acxa explained.

“Thank you.” Shiro moved to get up, but the feeling of the sheets falling off his naked body had him rushing back under the covers. “Would you mind…?”

Acxa didn’t need Shiro to finish his sentence. Without another word, she exited the room and left Shiro alone.

In his solitude, Shiro could give his racing mind a rest. Though this was the best he had been treated since being captured, he couldn’t help suspecting that something was amiss. Why would a Galra general spend vast sums of money on a slave he wasn’t going to treat like a slave? Sure, Lotor seemed to be giving him freedom, but for how long? And why?

Shiro pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. Thinking of only the negative of the situation wasn’t healthy for him. For now, he had to believe in Lotor.

There wasn’t much else he could do.

He tossed the silk purple sheets off his body and groaned at the sight of his legs. The crescent marks from Lotor’s claws contrasted with the white of his skin. There were also bruises on his thighs, marks from the night before.

As he stood, Shiro’s legs wobbled beneath him, and he braced a hand against the wall. Even after regaining his balance, it was still a struggle to walk to the closet, but it became easier with every step.

Shiro pushed around the clothes offered to him. He was surprised by the range of styles available—most of the Galra he had seen only wore their uniforms or armor. He had never seen what casual Galra clothing looked like. The materials were soft. It had been such a long time since he had worn real clothes.

He picked out a pair of dark grey pants and a long-sleeved shirt that dipped low into a V-neck. It showed off his strong neck and upper chest exceptionally well, and Shiro wondered if that was Lotor’s intent. Well, if he was going to be objectified, at least it was more comfortable than what they gave him at the auction. Slipping on a pair of mid-thigh boots, Shiro admired himself in the mirror in the back of the closet. For the first time, he saw a person, not just a slave looking back at him.

Shiro touched his left wrist and stared at the scars that decorated it. His skin had been scraped raw from the shackles they had put on him as they pulled him to and from every match. Sadly, none of the clothing that had long enough sleeves to hide the scars. Perhaps he’d be able to talk to Lotor about that later.

He found Acxa waiting for him outside the room, her form stiff and straight. After a quick appraising glance, she nodded in approval and, without a word, turned to lead him down the hall.

Like the uniforms, the architecture of Lotor’s compound was slightly different than other Galra ships Shiro had seen. While the Empire’s halls had an ominous purple hue to them, Lotor’s halls were brighter with a slight blue tint. It all reinforced to Shiro that this installation, while still clearly Galra, was _different._

“You’re more than welcomed to explore the compound as you see fit. It’s not a big place, but you can find yourself lost and overwhelmed in no time if you don’t know where you’re going,” Acxa explained. “For now, don’t hesitate to summon someone if you wish to go somewhere until you familiarize yourself with the area.”

“Are there any interesting spots here in the compound?”

“The labs are where the most interesting scientific work is done, but there isn’t much to see there unless you’re doing work, and Lotor would advise against visiting them until we have a better understanding of how your species will react to some of the items stored there. There is a rather extensive library Lotor uses in the evenings, but during the day when he’s not otherwise occupied, you’ll find him, myself and the others in the training area.” Acxa looked at him. “If you feel like joining us, you are more than welcomed to.”

Shiro rubbed at his left arm. Even with the new fixes, he wasn’t sure if he was up to training again, much less sparing, but he appreciated her including him. Having a task, and people to share it with, would help him feel less alone while he was in the compound. “Thank you for the offer.”

The tour continued with little other conversation. Acxa showed him how to get to the library if he felt like reading something and even showed him where he could get the books translated into a language he could understand. From there, she took Shiro to the loading bays where Lotor’s ships were docked. There seemed to be a large void between two of the smaller ships, but Shiro could ask, Acxa had departed to their next stop, and Shiro had to run to avoid losing her.

The last stop on their tour was the training room. Shiro expected at least a full Galra regime to be practicing, but there only appeared to be three of them.

One had a more muscular frame than Acxa and looked more traditionally “Galra” to Shiro than the others, with a large head and furry, bat-like ears. Though slower than the others in the ring, Shiro suspected a single hit would knock him flat. The other was unlike any alien Shiro had ever seen—she looked more like a reptile back on Earth than a Galra. There was a hood over her head, but even with it, he could see that she didn’t have any eyes on her flat face. The tail that trailed behind her lashed out, trying to trip over her large companion as they fought. What surprised Shiro was the cat that was on her shoulders, mewling in her ear and jumping out of the way, always returning to her after dodging. It seemed like it was fighting alongside her.

And then there was the last one.

He was smaller than the others. Like the reptilian one, there was a hood and mask covering his face. Though small, he seemed to have speed over the others—he swiftly moved and dodged the larger one’s attacks. Though Shiro didn’t see weapons on the others, the small one carried a knife that caught the light of the training area as he fought. Though beautiful, the blade was deflected by the large one’s forearms.

Despite their speed, the two hooded fighters looked like they were hardly tiring out the largest fighter. The smaller one’s shoulders were heaving as he stepped away from her attacks. Shiro figured they had been at it for some time.

The large Galra finally caught him in her large paws, and before he could break free, she jumped, slamming him into the ground with a thud. The force was strong enough to knock the hood off his head and send his mask flying off his face. Shiro watched as it clattered before him, stopping right next to his boot. As he bent down and picked it up, he tried to place where he had seen it before.

“Zethrid…!” the fighter wheezed from beneath her. He squirmed and shoved at her large shoulders. She hardly budged from his movements, a laugh wracking her body. “I yield—now get off me!”

Zethrid seemed to press more of her weight into him. Their third companion stood motionless beside them, the cat purring peacefully in her arms.

Shiro bent down and picked the mask up in his hands. He ran his fingers over the edges and the eyepieces. He thought he remembered something from the auction, but the memories were still hazy. Acxa moved towards them and Shiro felt himself follow. Now closer, he could finally see the fighter’s face.

What surprised Shiro the most was how human he looked. His skin wasn’t a strange hue like purple or blue—it was a fair, human tone, free from any blemishes or scars. Everything about him seemed human, from his teeth to his hair. Shiro stood stunned. Could there really be another person like him out here?

The human-looking one seemed to perk up at the sight of Shiro as he approached, ignoring how his companion was crushing him. “Oh, great—you’re here.”

Shiro felt his face grow hot and he took a step away from the crushed commander. Beside him, Acxa sighed and lowered her head. Zethrid started laughing, tossing her head back as her voice echoed in the training deck.

Shiro tried shifting through the foggy memories from the night before while hoping that he hadn’t done anything _too_ embarrassing while he was on the suppressants. Though given how they were all grinning at him, it was safe to assume _something_ had happened.

“Keith,” Acxa hissed between her teeth.

Zethrid was still laughing as she stood up. Her large hand wrapped under one of Keith’s arms and lifted him up with ease before setting him down on his feet. Keith fixed his hood back over his head, snatched the mask out of Shiro’s hands, and tucked it under his arm. “For someone who could make people scream in terror, I never knew you’d scream so much after getting some Galra cock in you.”

Shiro’s face burned. It wasn’t something he had done at the auction—they had all heard his time with Lotor.

Zethrid was still laughing and, while their silent companion did nothing, Shiro got the distinct feeling that the cat was laughing at him.

“Do you have anything else to say to our new guest, Keith?” Acxa said, clearly unamused by Keith’s comment. “Or do you think you have any other ‘jokes’ up your sleeve?”

Keith rolled his tongue in his mouth and gave her a smirk. “No, that’s all I had. Spent most of last night refining that one, since I couldn’t _sleep_ because of a certain someone.”

Shiro would be thankful for a creature from the arena to come forward and swallow him whole. But still, years working with Matt meant Shiro could trade verbal barbs with the best of them. Shiro smiled back at the small fighter. “All night? And that’s the best you could come up with?”

Keith grinned at him.

“I think I’ll go and spend some time in the library,” Shiro said as he turned to leave.

“You haven’t eaten yet, Shiro,” Acxa pointed out. “And you should. Given the drugs you’ve been on, and the cheap prisoner food they fed you, Lotor is worried about your nutritional intake. It would be wise to get a proper meal in you, and it will be a good first step to reverse the damage the arena has done to you.”

Shiro’s stomach growled at the thought of food. It had been ages since he last ate and even longer since he had something good.

Acxa crossed her arms and tapped a clawed finger against her bicep. “Keith, you’ll be Shiro’s escort until he’s familiar with the layout of the compound.”

“What?”

_“What?”_

Shiro dared to look at Keith—he shuddered from the angry glare given to him.

“Prince Lotor wanted one of us to be by his side while he learned the compound's layout,” Acxa explained. “I was originally going to give the task to Narti or Ezor, but you seem more interested in getting to know him. You’re already keeping tabs on his activities, after all. You’re the perfect candidate.”

Keith snarled and stepped closer to her. “I had to suffer through him cuddling up against me the whole trip here from that ship. Give it to someone else.”

Acxa merely stared Keith down. She was a whole head or two taller than him—Keith had to tilt his head back to look her properly in the eye. “My decision is final, Keith. If you wish to speak to Lotor about it, you’re welcomed to do so when he returns with Ezor.”

Keith cursed and turned away from Acxa and Shiro. He kicked his mask across the training room, causing the cat in Narti’s arms to hiss at him. Shiro chewed on his lip and found himself taking another step away from Keith.

He still had no idea to what happened on the ride to Lotor’s compound. Shiro was so doped up on inhibitors that he couldn’t remember. Maybe he _did_ cuddle up to Keith while Lotor sat beside them and laughed at the situation. He did find the man attractive.

Still, given how doped up he was, he suspected it may have been as simple as “he’s warm.”

His stomach growled again, loudly enough that Acxa glanced at him before locking back onto Keith.

“Keith, get him some food and bring him to the library,” Acxa ordered. Before Keith could out a reply, she spoke again, “That’s an _order,_ Keith—now follow it.”

Keith cursed and pushed between her and Shiro. “Come on. Let’s fill that stomach and brain of yours.”

 

“Thank you for the tour, Acxa,” Shiro thanked.

“You’re welcome. And don’t let Keith get to you. He may bark but won’t bite. Lotor meant what he said—no harm will come to you here.”

Shiro nodded.

An irritated “are you coming” was said to him before Keith exited through one of the doors. He didn’t bother to see if Shiro was following him. Shiro quickly thanked Acxa as he ran after Keith.

“Could you… could you slow down a bit?” Shiro asked, struggling to catch up with Keith’s long strides. For someone so small, he sure was fast. Shiro guessed he needed to be if he wanted to avoid Narti’s tail or Zethrid’s fists.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you?” Keith asked with a snapping tone. “The quicker you get food, the quicker we can get you into the library, and the quicker I can get back to doing something useful.”

Shiro wasn’t sure how to handle Keith’s attitude. He had a few experiences handling mouthy young cadets, but he couldn’t order Keith to run laps around the Garrison. Besides, this was the first human-looking person he had seen since he was taken away from Matt. Shiro had hoped he could spend some time with Keith if only so he could feel more normal—like he wasn’t the only human for light-years.

Shiro dutifully followed Keith back to the mess hall. Despite the larger size, it was almost empty save just one or two people, like most of the compound. They glanced up at Keith and Shiro, before giving Keith a nod and returning to their meals. In a way, the interaction was comforting to Shiro. After his time as a gladiator and as a prisoner, it was relaxing to not feel everyone staring at him.

The memory came unbidden.

Being watched by the spectators in the arena, their cries surrounding him.

The hiss of energy weapons barely missing him.

The stench of burnt flesh.

The blood pooling from his arm the one time a weapon didn’t miss.

Shiro shut his eyes and tried to block out the images. As vivid as they were, he just needed to tell himself they weren’t real— ‘just memories’, he repeated to himself as he tried to steady himself. Shiro would never be able to forget everything that happened during his imprisonment, but he could get through it.

He took a few deep breaths and then opened his eyes to see Keith eyeing him, looking vaguely concerned. But as soon as they made eye contact, Keith quickly turned back to the scribbles near the food.

Keith pressed a few buttons on a console, and Shiro hoped he was ordering for the two of them (the menu was indecipherable to him). After a quick tap, he looked over at Shiro and began walking to a nearby table, not check to see if Shiro was following him.

Shiro followed, “So, how long have you been working with Lotor?”

“Not long,” Keith answered. He was giving Shiro an appraising look as if trying to figure out what the human would do with any information he shared. “I was the last one of his generals to join his forces.”

“Are all of Lotor’s generals half Galra?”

“We are—but don’t ask me what the other half is for the others. I have no clue.”

“But you’re half human?”

Keith gritted his teeth and gave him a look. “I serve Lotor as one of his generals. Regardless of what I might be, _that_ is the important thing,” Keith said defensively.

Shiro sat silently as he waited for his food to arrive. Half human or not, he suspected Acxa or Lotor, or perhaps anyone else on the station would have made a better dining companion.

Somewhere on the wall, a panel opened, and trays of food filed out on a rotary belt.

The moment he could smell the food, Shiro felt his mouth watering. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Keith any more than he had earlier, but Shiro couldn’t help himself—he felt his stomach roar. Unlike the goo they gave him in the arena, this food actually had shape!

There were four dishes in total and, while he knew they weren’t Earth foods, they looked similar to things he was familiar with. One looked like a rack of lamb, only the meat was a strange purple color and there was a bright pink gravy-like substance over it. Another dish looked like a quesadilla, but the bread looked almost much too yellow and the meat was green (he would think it was spoiled if it didn’t smell so good.) The third dish looked like a pink steak with various look vegetables surrounding it—Shiro was most excited for that one. The fourth and final dish seemed like a kind of ice cream and he was pleasantly surprised to see that it resembled the same color of it back on Earth.

All in all, Shiro couldn’t wait to eat it all.

“I’m not sure what you’ll like, but these foods are safe enough,” Keith commented. “They’re the same foods I started out with when I came here. Hopefully your stomach can handle it.”

Shiro looked at the food in wonder, using every ounce of his self-control not to dive in. “Thank you. It all looks so good…”

Keith snorted. “I’m sure it’s better than the slop they served you before.” He reached forward and started piling the plates in his arms. He carried three and allowed Shiro to carry the dessert dish. “Let’s get you settled in the library. It’s the next room over, and I’ll come back for a drink for you when you’re settled there.”

“Food… In the library?” He looked horrified.

“It’s fine, just don’t make a mess, and I’d rather get some work done than being forced to make small talk for the entire meal.”

Shiro closed his eyes as he entered the library and inhaled the scent of books—it smelled just like books on Earth, and Shiro felt like he was transported back home. When he was younger, he would lose himself in the library after school, learning about space travel. His head would be filled with adventures of what he would find in the great black vastness of space—the planets he would visit, the beings he would meet, the honor he would receive when he returned to Earth.

In retrospect, it had turned out a bit differently than Shiro had expected.

When he opened his eyes, Shiro saw Keith setting the plates down on a high table. Keith wandered over to a panel and typed a few buttons on the interface. A holoscreen appeared and he once more typed another few things into it. A little drawer popped open and he reached in to pull out a wide device.

“Do you see this?” Keith turned the device around. It was see-through with a light purple hue about it. “The way it works is like a magnifying glass—you hover it over whatever text you’re ready and it’ll translate it into a language you can decipher.”

Shiro pouted. “How does it know what language I can understand?”

“I don’t know,” Keith admitted. “I haven’t figured that out, and Acxa never explained it to me—she just says to accept things the way they are.” He shoved the device into Shiro’s hands. “Think you’ll be alright until I come back with something for us to drink?”

Shiro nodded. He was busy with the device in his hands, turning it around and trying to find out how to turn it on. His thumb was against a button and he pressed his thumb against it. The device lit up and there were strange symbols that danced along the surface. Despite Keith’s insistence it should ‘just work,’ Shiro couldn’t understand anything on the screen and Keith was already gone.

Shiro was alone in the massive library. He moved to eat some of the food… only to realize he hadn’t grabbed any kind of utensils or napkins. And he doubted Keith would be happy about him handling the books with messy hands, so he, despite his stomach’s protests, turned away from the food to take in the library.

There were rows and rows of shelves filled with books—Shiro didn’t know where to start. He placed the dessert on the table with the rest of the other platters and went ahead to the first shelf that he could reach. His fingers grazed the spines before he brought the device up to hover them.

“Oh.” Shiro tilted his head to the side as symbols danced over the titles, transforming them into letters that he could understand.

 _The Altean, the Galran, and the Castleship, King Alfor and the Secret Meteor..._ It looked like he had stumbled on the fantasy section.

Though the prisoner in him demanded he find something more useful like maps to escape, histories of the Galra military, Shiro shoved down the impulse. He could look around the library more to find something more useful later but, for now, he was fine with this. Besides, he was learning about their culture, he rationalized, it was useful research!

Shiro grabbed a book and walked back to the table. The chair was soft and Shiro melted into it the moment his body sunk into the soft seating. Shiro hummed and held the device and book to his chest. If it wasn’t for the smell of food reminding him of his hunger, he felt he was ready to fall asleep right here in the library.

He sat back up and rearranged everything on the desk—the book was placed in the middle of the table and the food was arranged around it. Shiro found a few other pillows on other chairs and sofas and built himself a bit more support—the chair was clearly designed for a larger Galra. It felt like a time when he was young and would hold himself up in the library until his grandfather came to pick him up.

Pushing the feeling aside, Shiro sat up and opened the book. He hovered the device over the first page, watching as the strange words transformed into something he could read. Shiro noticed a cloth sitting beneath the food tray—hopefully it would be alright if he used that. He placed the cloth in his lap, pulled the purple ribs closer to him with one hand, and started to read. He picked at the food while he read the words before him. The meat tasted a little salty, but it was juicy and tender.

Time seemed to stand still as he read and ate. Shiro had almost forgotten about Keith until he returned to the library. He had almost finished the first chapter when Keith placed a cup of blue liquid beside him before walking into another section of the library. Shiro didn’t give him much of his attention—his attention was still completely in the world he had immersed himself and the food he was eating.

After a few minutes, Keith walked back over and snatched the device from Shiro’s hands. Shiro didn’t have time to protest as he watched him put the device on a kind of stand and hovered it over the book.

“That way you can use both your hands to eat,” Keith commented. He disappeared again before Shiro had a chance to thank him.

Now, Keith had Shiro’s attention.

Every few pages, he would look up and stare at Keith. He had decided to sit in a chair a few spots away from Shiro. There was a large book in his lap and he seemed intrigued with what he was reading—jotting notes down on some sort of device in front of him. Whenever Keith turned his attention to him, Shiro quickly looked back at his own book and continued to read.

Keith interested him. Even though they had gotten off to a rocky start, Shiro couldn’t shake off his curiosity for him. If Keith was a human, what was he doing here in space with Lotor? Had he come from Earth?

Shiro pushed away the last of his empty plates. Everything he had eaten was delicious and several had reminded him of food back on Earth. Keith had done well ordering for him.

He cupped his chin in his hand and stared at Keith. Keith was still involved in his own world with his book, turning the page every so often. Shiro toyed with the idea of getting up and sitting with him, both because he did want to learn more about him, and he wanted to see how his chaperone would react. Besides, Shiro reasoned they would be together on the compound for a while—they might as well get along with each other.

Shiro placed his finger in the book to mark his place and stood up. He tucked the device and its stand between his arm and body. As he walked towards him, Shiro saw Keith watching him, an eyebrow raised in question. Shiro didn’t say anything as he took over space next to him and set the stand back over the book.

He looked over at Keith, who was still giving him the same critical look from before. Shiro tried to return it with one of his own, but it only managed to pull a scoff out of Keith before he returned to his book. Shiro followed suit, nesting his cheek in the palm of his hand to start reading again.

Unlike the silence from earlier, this was almost comforting. Shiro had very few people he could enjoy solitude with. Back in the Garrison, the libraries were always filled and, once his students discovered his frequented the library, he could never get more than a few pages in before someone interrupted him. Though Shiro could always take books back to his room, he felt it was admitting defeat in a way—he enjoyed reading in libraries, surrounded by other books, never far away from another story. It really had been a long time where he was capable of relaxing with a book in a quiet library.

When Shiro was done with the book, he leaned back and stretched his arms above his head. He noticed that there was a pile of books beside him. On top of the pile was a note. He reached for the translator, before realizing it was written in English and not another alien dialect:

_You’ll like these. -K_

Shiro turned his head to look at Keith. It didn’t seem like he moved at all—he was still reading the very large book, at least halfway through them. He didn’t bother to look at Shiro, but Shiro smiled at him all the same. Though small, he appreciated the gesture.

And, it confirmed his previous suspicions: Keith was _certainly_ from Earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't deserve my editor or my artists. They've always been patient with me and I love them for it. ♥  
>  **  
> **  
> [Story Artwork](http://smutty-crumpet.tumblr.com/post/182633765484/canary-in-a-cage-shotor-perversions-summary)  
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